


Like Brother

by eternallamppost



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, F/F, Freeform, M/M, Multi, and a big happy overwatch family, but i dunno how im gonna get there, end game for this is reformed sombra and reaper and widow, i think i write combat best, i'll fill tags out more as it goes, im assuming its gonna take a while
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 08:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9597695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternallamppost/pseuds/eternallamppost
Summary: During a Talon raid on Watchpoint:Gibraltar, Jesse McCree incapacitates Sombra, an enemy he has a lot of respect for. Will he take her under his wing, the way Gabriel Reyes did him? Will she put up with his shit for even a single day?





	1. A Battle

_It is no longer Christmas_ Jesse thinks, as the sniper round pierces his left arm, his body twisting around, neck whipping from the force. He hits the ground behind the crates making up his cover, and Peacekeeper thuds against his thigh. The tinsel strung over the gates of the Watchpoint is tattered and limp, and McCree finds some solace in it.

 _It is no longer Christmas_ Jesse thinks as he pulls himself up into a crouch. (He is right. It is February. He was supposed to pull the tinsel down weeks ago.) He peeks out the right side of his cover, left arm dangling at his side. Widowmaker’s round must have pierced something in its hydraulics; he can hear it whistling when he tries to move it, but his fingers only twitch in response. He breathes deep.

He sees Widowmaker fire something from her perch and what appears to be a six-inch long, five-inch wide mechanical spider lands on the wall near Hanzo Shimada’s perch. Jesse mumbles “spider mine” into his comm, and realizes he is having trouble speaking. Hanzo rips the mine from the wall, the tips of its claws still buried in the brick. Jesse watches Hanzo hurl the mine into the air, roll backwards, take aim for less than a millisecond and fire, his arrow whistling through the night sky before piercing the mine. The arrow, now equipped with Widowmaker’s own poison mine, thuds against the floor beneath her balcony, and McCree can hear her coughing as her grappling hook lets her escape.

Jesse McCree steps out of cover and breathes. He lets Peacekeeper rest against the meat of his thumb for a second before he draws and fires, and a round thuds viciously into a Talon grunt’s chest, and the impact crushes the main against the wall of the main building. His head cracks against the brick, hard plastic helmet splintering under his weight, and the man does not get up again.

Jesse McCree is grateful for the heavy sound of pulse fire like thunder off to his right, and is less grateful for the crack of shotguns that accompany it. _The Ballad of Jack and Gabe_ he thinks, and he hopes the old man lives. He realizes, momentarily, he is not sure which old man he refers to. His chest stings with love for the Reaper, and it is swiftly replaced with the hum of a song he knows. Jesse feels his brain reacting to the notes, becoming more alert, more precise, and he knows Lucio is here even before the younger man barrels out of the door behind McCree, low to the ground, sonic gun in the air.

Lucio skids along the wall to McCree’s right and one of the spider’s rounds crashes behind him. Lucio pulls down some of the tinsel with one hand, tossing it at McCree with a smile on his face. The sight of him makes Jesse feel better. It usually does, but in these moments especially.

As the frog distracts the spider, Jesse takes stock. He has several quick loaders of ammunition, three flashbangs (useless without his arm, most likely). Peacekeeper has five rounds still in it’s chamber. He needs to make them count.

He steps out to his left, exposing his bad arm first. He sees Widowmaker, the bright red trail of her fire hanging in the air as she cracks shot after shot at Lucio. Jesse closes his eyes, hears a whistle in his ear, and pulls the trigger – once, twice, three times.

Widowmaker knows what he is doing in the moments before he does it. She knows of Deadeye, and she knows of the gunslinger’s brutal speed. She knows of Jesse McCree, rescued by her ally at Deadlock Gorge. She knows of the long Blackwatch nights Gabriel and Jesse spent together, and the rapport between them, both paternal and fraternal.

She knows all of this, and it does not save her.

The first round pierces her rifle just at the end of the barrel, and her instrument splinters at the end. She pulls it out of sniper configuration, knowing she won’t be doing any sniping with it until she got back to base. The second round slices through her right leg, and Widowmaker screams. She hits the ground with a thud, and she knows the Jesse has rendered her lame for the forseeable future. This round will not kill her- the gunslinger is too precise that- but she isn’t going anywhere.

The third round shatters a lens in her visor, at the top of her head, and whizzes through it’s hard steel without ever touching her flesh.

Hanzo smiles down at Jesse, adrenaline still pumping, breath barely caught. The gunslinger blows him a kiss, and Hanzo chuckles under his breath. They are both needed elsewhere.

McCree holsters Peacekeeper as he creeps along the side of the Watchpoint, following the thunder and lightning of the ballad of Jack and Gabe. He reaches for a flashbang and doesn’t find one, curses his left arm, and pulls with his right arm. He stops for a second, calculating where Jack is battling the Reaper, where he’s going to have to toss his flashbang. The echoes are more concentrated now, and Jesse thinks they’re in the cargo hangar. This is good news- if he can get onto one of the ledges, he can stun Gabe long enough for Jack to bring him down.

McCree is at the top of the staircase that will take him there when he hears a noise he wishes was not familiar. His mind flashes momentarily to old episodes of Star Trek – _Cloaking devices were considered a war crime –_ and Sombra thumps her heel against the underside of his knee.

Jesse hits the ground, rolls forward, and twists around, bringing his useless left arm up to defend himself. The girl’s claws tear up the metal, a single bright spark flickering against his serape, and they both grin.

“Been a while.” The gunslinger drawls.

“Been here all along.” Sombra quips back, and both of them smile.

“Doubt it.” The gunslinger says, and brings his good arm up, a quick jab into the girl’s ribs. Sombra takes the blow, and Jesse can see her lose her breath as she steps back. Jesse swings his bad arm up, a feint- a feint she took- and flings the flashbang at her feet.

Sombra yelps- more out of surprise then pain, and stumbles backward. Jesse lunges, tackling her, and the two of them tumble down the stairs. They hit the ground, Jesse holding Sombra by the shoulders, and when her head thumps against the ground he brings her up and repeats the motion- the girl is out cold.

Jesse picks her up- gently, bridal style. He’s incapacitated two deadly Talon agents in a single day. He hopes Jack brings Reaper in. This could be a good day. Satya is going to have to look at his arm, and Mercy and Lucio are going to have some work to do with Amelie and Sombra. The Watchpoint is going to need fixed up in general. There’s a lot of work to be done. He hopes Jack brings Gabe in. He hopes he gets to see Gabe soon. Not the Reaper, but Gabe.

He carries Sombra back to the Watchpoint slowly. His arm is still incapacitated, and he can barely keep it under the girl’s head and back. He wonders what kind of relationship Sombra and Gabe have. To some extent, he knows Reaper and Gabe are no longer the same person, but still. Sombra is a young girl with incredible skill, part of an impossibly deadly espionage group. McCree smiles to himself. They have a lot in common.

The thunder stops as McCree steps into the medbay. Angela is already there, applying a foam to the wound in Amelie’s leg. The spider has been sedated, and the hole in her uniform has been widened so Dr. Ziegler can stitch it up after the medical foam does its work. Mercy smiles at him as he lays Sombra down, and then frowns at his arm.  
“Are you hurt?” the doctor asks.

“Only my feelings.” The gunslinger says, waggling his prosthesis at his side. They both smile. “I’m hopin’ there’s somethin’ Satya can do about it. Rather not have one of Torbjorn’s jobs if I can help it.” He looks out the medbay doors, concerned.

“You seen Jack?”

“Not yet.” The doctor replies.

“What’s the damage? Everyone okay?”

“Mostly.” Mercy smiles. “The shield generators Symmetra installed really helped. Mostly cuts and bruises, and a few dead Talon agents. There were only a few people here to even fight.”

Jesse nods. A large portion of the Overwatch team was on mission at Numbani – someone had tried to steal Doomfist’s gauntlet recently, and a Talon team had been spotted scouting the museum again. It had come to a head yesterday, with a large scale Talon infiltration. Mei, Zarya, Tracer, Zenyatta, and Genji had been waiting for them.

“They should be back tomorrow.” Mercy says. McCree eyes the clock.

“I guess it’s already tomorrow.” He sighs.

Jack stumbles in the door, and McCree instinctively puts an arm under him to help him in. Together, they get Jack into a chair, and Jesse helps him pull the 76 jacket off. Jack’s chest is riddled with shotgun pellets, wounds bleeding even as the serum in his blood heals them. Angela administers Sombra a sedative, and sits down next to Jack. She sets a tray of tools on the shelf next to her, and one by one starts plucking hot shrapnel from the flesh of the older man’s chest. Jack winces with each one, but smiles up at McCree.

“You should see the other guy.”

McCree rolls his eyes with a scoff, and heads out the sliding medbay doors. He stumbles past smoking debris and crumbling bricks, wondering to himself how much damage to the Watchpoint Junkrat did tonight.

When he gets to his bunk, sleep is easy.

-

Reaper flew, as far as the shitty jet Talon had given him would take him. He cursed Overwatch, under his breath- he cursed Jack, and he cursed Talon, and he cursed Jesse, and he cursed Angela, and he cursed the burning holes where the soldier’s munitions had burst through his shadowy form, and he wept.


	2. An Awakening and an Offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sombra wakes up in a place she doesn't know, and makes a friend- or a family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I'm sorry, present tense was killing me. I was two pages into this chapter before I realized I was writing in past tense and it was too late. Sorry for the weird switch haha.  
> Hope you liked this chapter! Not sure where I'm going next, but I hope you like it.

Sombra woke up slowly, and when she was fully conscious she sat up. Groggily, she took stock of her inventory. Translocater missing. Uzi accounted for, but magazine missing. Phone missing. Earpiece accounted for, but disconnected- phone off. Everything else seemed okay.

She was in a white room with a silver and brown trim. The ceiling was rounded off, and the door was wooden and without adornment. A desk with a computer and some sort of console were set up on the right wall, and a hard plastic dresser on the left. Two bunkbeds were sat against on the wall facing the door, and a bathroom was situated near the door. The three other beds were empty. Sombra guessed this was one of the Overwatch dorms.

A voice she recognized buzzed in over an intercom. “Got yer magazine with me in the training grounds. There’s a shower and some fresh clothes in the dresser- my apologies if I got your size wrong. Meet me in training room 3 when you’re ready to talk.” The intercom was silent, and then crackled to life again. “Also, please don’t try to escape. You probably could, but no one’s gonna hurt ya while you’re here, and I’ve got yer fancy tech anyway.”

Sombra sat on the bed for a moment. She looked around- no obvious cameras. The intercom was probably a two-way microphone, but a quick look under the panel let her know that her side wasn’t activated until she hit the button. A quick sweep of the room revealed no bugs, and unscrewing the outlets behind the desk revealed none either. She sat again.

Her head didn’t hurt, exactly. There was a tightness at the base of her skull and a rhythm to her veins there- like a migraine was happening to someone else, far away. She didn’t like the feeling, but she guessed it was better than that stranger’s migraine the doctor had pulled from her. She looked in the dresser, and found a t-shirt in roughly her size and a pair of jeans snug around her waist.

She was, for all intents and purposes, in enemy territory, she thought, as the hot water battered at the stress building at the top of her spine. Reaper would thrash her if he knew she was so vulnerable in Watchpoint: Gibraltar of all places- or at least, he would say he’d thrash her. The thought made Sombra smile, and then frown. Did Overwatch have all of them? She knew several of the low-level agents had been killed. Reyes had been in cacophonous combat with Morrison, and Widowmaker had gone suspiciously quiet a few minutes before Sombra had her encounter with the cowboy. Her chest stung for a moment, and she genuinely wondered if Reaper was alive.

She shook her head- of course he was. Jesse McCree wouldn’t be treating her like this if Overwatch had just killed one of her allies. Overwatch would have no idea how she’d respond; for all they know Sombra would exact an immediate revenge. (Would she? She didn’t know.) Either they had Reaper, and he was alive, or he’d gotten away from them.

She dried herself off and slid into the clothes she had been left, and stepped out of the room. To her surprise, it wasn’t locked. The panel next to the door that served as an intercom lit up when she opened the door, and so she presumed she was being monitored (at least with regards to when she left the room).

The first thing she noticed as she left the room was the noise. There was pure cacophony out of the common area- chiptune music blaring and yelling in multiple languages (Sombra parsed English, Japanese, Korean, and Chinese before she gave up) accompanied by thunderous laughter. She decided to avoid that area, taking a longer hallway through the dorms and around the kitchen and dining hall, which would take her down to the hallway that housed the training rooms.

Most of the dorms had name placards next to them (hers did not), and she recognized most names. Mei Ling-Zhou and Zarya, Winston, Tracer, Lucio, Zenyatta. She walked slowly down the hall, enjoying the cool of the clean tile on her bare feet. Through a slot in the heavy door leading into the kitchen she saw a tall, thin blonde woman in scrubs chopping vegetables. They met eyes for a second, and Sombra stepped back instinctively. The blonde woman- Angela “Mercy” Ziegler, Sombra thought- smiled at her, and closed her fingers one by one in a little wave around the knife in her hand. Sombra’s brow furrowed, surprised- and then she smiled back. Mercy was beautiful, truly, and it was hard to deny the warmth in her smile. Whether it was genuine or not, Sombra found herself happy to have been witness to it.

Sombra made the rest of the way to Training Room 3 a little less cautious. She had been nervous when she first left that little round room, but now she saw the cowboy hadn’t been lying- she wasn’t really in any danger at the moment. She wondered what there really was stopping her from leaving. The gunslinger had her translocater and her ammunition, sure, but they were easily replaced. She knew there was a small town about thirty miles from Gibraltar- a long walk, but a walk she could make. What then? Steal a car, sell the car, get a ticket back to the states? All possible, but still…why bother? Talon wasn’t going to be waiting for her- they only contacted her for jobs once a month at best, and she’d been paid for the raid up front as always. She had no family waiting for her in the states, not anymore. Her only real friends were Reyes and Widowmaker, and they were just as likely to be wandering the Watchpoint as they were to be anywhere else. No, she decided- she might as well see what the cowboy wanted.

She arrived at the decision a few moments before she arrived at the training room’s door. She pressed a button on the keypad marked with a green circle, and a bright red x lit up on the pad. “Shit.” She heard from inside the room. “Uhh, 258’ll getcha in!”

She punched 2-5-8 into the keypad (shaking her head- straight down the middle? Really, Jesse?) and the hydraulic door slid open with a hiss. The cowboy was lounging on a bench on the wall to her right, a thick, cream-colored paperback book in his left hand, with his right behind his head. He had his feet up, and a brown bag under the bench Sombra guessed contained her stuff. Jesse closed the book (Larry McMurtry’s Lonesome Dove, she saw, and of course it was) and swung his legs over the bench to face her, positioning himself between her and the bag of her belongings.

“Reckon ya got questions?” he drawled, a smirk playing across his lips. “I’m ready an’ willin’ to answer ‘em.”

Sombra crossed her arms and leaned against the wall next to the door. She briefly calculated the odds of getting the bag, her gun loaded, and firing off a few shots- and then she saw Peacekeeper in its holster at his waist, remembered the man’s legendary speed, and decided against it.

“What do you want with me?”

Jesse chuckled, throwing his hands up a bit before bringing them together in a sort of “hell, I dunno” clap.

“Make a friend? Some information? You gotta lot of bounties, lil lady, and they don’t come easy. Overwatch is willing to help with some of ‘em, and your particular, er, skillset wouldn’t be useless around here.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Lil lady. Don’t call me that.”

Jesse frowned, and nodded. “My apologies-” he cut himself off, and looked up at her. His eyes were brown, she realized- the same burgundy brown as his skin. They were also genuine. “Sincerely, my apologies.”

Sombra nodded, curt. It was hard not to like the man. There was an easy way about him, an affectation of sincerity that made her want to drop her guard.

“What makes you think I need Overwatch’s help to get rid of those bounties? Or that Talon isn’t willing to do it?”

Jesse chuckled. “Hell, Talon’s the reason ya got ‘em! As for your other question, I’m sure ya don’t need our help. You ain’t done nothing you didn’t know exactly what you were doin, far as I can tell, but there are plenty of other benefits to Overwatch too, if yer willin’ to hear em.”

One of Sombra’s eyebrows went up. She was quiet for a moment, and Jesse let her be quiet.

She remembered those first few months of orphanage (orphan-hood?). She remembered sitting on the floor of the empty living room in her empty house, looking up at the box television. She remembered staring wide-eyed at the screen while Jack Morrison (Soldier 76, her brain corrected) and Gabriel Reyes (the Reaper) were awarded some medal or another. She remembered the deep voiced announcer – _Is the Omnic Crisis finally over?­ –_ and she remembered looking at the Overwatch team, standing side by side and smiling. She remembered what a _family_ they seemed, and _heroes_ at that. She smiled, for a split second. She sighed.

“Okay.” She said. “On a…provisional basis.” She eyed the bag. “Can I have my stuff?”

Jesse kicked the bag over to her. “Don’t imagine you’ll need em for a bit, but sure. Phone’s in there too.” He smiled, and Sombra felt something in her stomach open up. She looked at him as he stood up, and realized for the first time how absolutely _goofy_ he looked. She thought, briefly and without purpose, that he would look out for her, if he could. She smiled, and felt the warmth of tears threaten the back of her eyes.

“You’re going to fit in great here. Hana is so excited to meet you already, and Lucio thinks you’re something of a legend. ‘Course the first day is going to be overwhelming, and- oh, Amelie is around here somewhere too. I think Lena’s talking to her? Not sure.” He was babbling, buckling his holster around his waist on putting his hat on. “Winston’ll get you set up with credentials, and you’ll be a part of the semidaily teamwork programs. The room you woke up in will be yers, and-oh! You could take up a dinner night! Everybody-”

He trailed off when he noticed the tear in her eye, and lifted an arm to touch her shoulder, before thinking better of it. “Everythin’ alright?”

“I don’t know.” Sombra said, honestly. “I think so.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi thanks for reading! This is sort of a follow up to Christmas at Gibraltar, but its gonna be a longform thing I hope.


End file.
